


Monster

by mother_hearted



Category: Odin Sphere
Genre: Burning, F/M, Objectification, Scarification, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you keep your mouth shut, imagining the gold of his crown tarnishing before your eyes with a smile on your lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd POV, no caps.

you look at your hands, the large rough palms and tan skin that you'll never get used to seeing. your nails are too dull, your fingers too thin, the dexterity isn't the same, the way the tendons flex and move under your skin too subtly when your fingers curl. 

they're the hands of man, weak and pitiable. 

when you first started doing this, you were almost afraid. of being stomped to death, of having your body cracked open like a fine nut and your insides plucked out. 

that first year you felt vulnerable, like the prey you taunted and tormented and played with, before there was nothing left but the dust of their bones. 

but that year passed and with your human hands and human feet you were still _here,_ and you realized it was worth it after all.

~oOo~

you are the inferno king and all know you long before they step foot in your kingdom of fire and ash. to the other lands you are young, taken in by flights of fancy, with little to no skill in political affairs. yet it's your youth that makes them afraid, because the hands of time stop for no one, and you plan to be here far longer than anyone else.

the old fool calls you _fire demon_ , as if he can smell it on you, his attempt at dragging out the beast. you keep your mouth shut, imagining the gold of his crown tarnishing before your eyes with a smile on your lips. 

his castle is cold and barren, damp like the remains of a campfire after an early morning rain. it makes you homesick, for fire lined pits and cavern floors cracked open wide to make room for whistles of steam. 

you hold your head high while you traverse through halls of grey and when you sit in for chilling audiences, with a ruler whose face moves no more than that of a stone statue. 

idly, you wonder if you would notice if the old queen's bones came to collect him, leaving his body sitting as rigidly in his throne as when you entered. you laugh silently.

you keep your thoughts to yourself and spare his ire.

you still want another invitation.

~oOo~

odin has a _daughter_.

well, _two_ daughters. but you have no interest in glassy-eyed soldiers. it's the younger one who has entranced you, her form small, nearly petite. curves wrapped in blue silk, from a distance she is a princess, complexion light and fair from hours of watching clouds drifting by from the tops of the castle's towers. 

up close she is hardened, valkyrie pride set in her jaw, shoulders, spine. she knows how to break your neck, your hand, leave the juices of your eye dripping down your socket. a heat simmers in your belly when you look into her eyes, the veil of ice covering them much too thin to hide from you. 

she doesn't have the taste for blood you do.

even more so, you're new to her, too different from her world of stone cages and battlefield blues. 

you touch her hand in greeting, holding her small fingers between yours. she blinks, giving her name slowly in return, flush creeping onto the skin of her face, down her neck, down to the curve of her collar bone.

you wonder if she has ever been held, if she has ever been _burned_. you trace a thumb up the inside of her sleeve covered arm before she jerks away, a bead of sweat trailing down from her brow, past the curve of her cheek before she wipes it away with the back of her hand. 

you want to smooth your hands all over the lines and curves of her body, watch the silky material cling to her damp skin. 

she bids you adieu, _you have business with my father don't you_.

you take home the image of her body slowly trembling ( _adrenaline, fear, desire_ ) and the rash movement of her eyes, as if she could hide the way her pupils dilated.

~oOo~

you stare at her sleeping body for hours. she is unmoving, unfeeling, cold like a corpse. everything inside of you swims around like a wildfire, crackling and harsh and too too much.

you finally have her, your beautiful blue bird whose wings have been clipped. she isn't anything like what you've been wanting, the girl who could take down dragons but was too afraid to let the flames of passion melt the ice around her heart. 

except you can change that, with the press of your lips. her eyes will snap open and she'll look up at you and...

she will love you? 

you stare at your hands.

_she will love you?_

they are calloused and dark and not your hands at all.

the spell doesn't matter and rage now boils strongly in your belly. 

she will never love you.

~oOo~

he's come here to _save_ her.

you take one look at his ailing face, the dark marks under his eyes, the bony mess of his body.

_you want to crush him under your boots._ hear them crack, split in _two, four, six, eight, twelve, sixteen, twentyfour pieces_ while the blood runs from his mouth, staining his teeth and lips, rushing down his throat and over his armor. you think while he's gargling his own blood you'll keep him under your sole, make him lick the ash and earth off the bottoms of your boots, get him acquaintanted with the taste of death and decay. 

he leaves with gwendolyn, your pride torn but your mind still sharp, his debt to you sits heavy like a stone in the back of your mind.

~oOo~

you build yourself back up and wait until you can greet the shadow knight with a smile.

~oOo~

she is scowling and _furious_ , heat rolling off her body in waves. she is magnificent and you've never wanted her more, she demands her _husband_ and you smile wide, charming and predatory all at once.

you stalk toward her, then slower, meandering. she decides she's done waiting for you and launches herself with a cry, toughness and energy and grace. you evade her, feel her lance graze the side of your body - a sting that only stirs you more.

she rockets back towards you and she does more than graze you, tip digging right into your side but you grab her, the very hand gripped around her weapon and with your strength you toss them both aside. she lands on the hot floor, a stream of steam erupting up into her back and she screams. in the time she takes to roll you are on her, heavy weight of your body sinking down until she is trapped. already she is sweating, bangs and loose strings of hair damp, eyes shining brightly when she bites her lip.

she is every bit the warrior, too proud to beg, even when she is unarmed, in pain. your mind is already filled with images of the damage done to her back, the way the skin is discolored, sensitive, aching to be made into a proper mark. 

your fingers find the pulse points of her throat and she stiffens, your lips press themselves against her ear.

_don't tell me you've forgotten my touch_

you strengthen your grip slowly, her windpipe slowly constricted but that's not why she gasps, until she _screams_. you take your hand away and look at the fresh burns, in the shape of your fingerprints, more beautiful on her than any string of crystals could be. 

her face reveals a wall has crumbled, shock keeping her mouth parted, lips trembling. you've dreamt of breaking her, of stealing her pride and strength and leaving her shattered, a mess of noise and confusion and emotion that you too will take away. you want all of her, blood, sweat, and tears and you finally press your mouth to hers to begin swallowing her whole.

for a brief moment you feel her mouth slacken completely before strength sears back into her mouth, her teeth scraping your tongue, biting your lip until the weak skin breaks and you hiss, tasting your own blood. you rear back, your own eyes wild and her stare meets you head on, looking so deeply into you a voice whispers _she knows_ that you are a monster, a beast hiding under haughty, smooth remarks, and a tongue that drips with poetic desires. 

she knows what you are and why you won't ever truly have her.

you feel yourself slipping, a growl hiding deep in the back of your throat and in a frenzy you think you have to have as much of her as you can _now now now_.

you rip away the metal and fabric of her armor, begin pressing your hands to every inch of flesh uncovered, she thrashes, trying to roll out from under you. you get a glimpse of her back, the tantalizing pinkred shine of flesh that gets you forcing her back down on the ground with your hand slipped underneath, pressed against that spot. your mouth and other hand busy themselves with her throat, her breasts, stomach, ribs, until she is nothing but a myriad of red streaked and raised skin. 

you prop her legs up and open with your own, her hands tangle themselves in your hair, tightening, _ripping_ it out and it hurts but it does nothing when she looks like this, eyes wild and lips puffy from when she's bitten them. 

her legs are toned and strained and so _bare_ , you slip your open palms between them, spread her thighs wider. she cries and arches at the heat that presses into her soft skin, opening her wider, revealing her folds. 

the heat between her legs draws you, you relinquish a hand to slip your fingers in, wetness and warmth welcome you and you smile at the weak snap of her legs attempting to close. 

it's not her heart, it's not her heart at all, but it's slickness and heat and _want_ , deep in the core of her body and you'll take it too.

your mouth meets hers again, her lips shaky and clumsy and raw. your hands leave her body, unwrapping the leather bound around your waist. 

on your knees you mount her, feel her squeeze around you, pulsing, driving you in deeper and harder. her nails dig into your shoulders, the back of your neck, her thighs tremble, closing tighter and tighter on your sides, trying to crush you with free will alone. but she makes _noise_ , unpained sounds slipping out and you thrust into her faster, like an animal in heat who has pounced on an unsuspecting mate. 

your mind is filled with nothing but screams and growls and _gwendolyn gwendolyn gwendolyn_ until the world is blindingly bright for a mere moment and your hips slow to a stop. 

you're both panting, her eyes are closed, tongue all but hanging out of her mouth. the blood from when she pierced you before has bled over her hip and thigh. she is angry red and bruised skin and she is beautiful.

~oOo~

she leaves you. 

you do not stop her.

a voice, loud and angry screams in the back of your head that you are a fool, that _she is yours you have claimed her_ and you nearly send yourself flying off a cliff to make it _stop_.

~oOo~

the final time you meet she stares at you in horror.

at who.

at _what_ you really are.

the teeth, the fangs, the fur, the eyes, the gargantuan size of your body.

your anger pushes you forward, covers her brilliant blue in searing painful _red_.

~oOo~

as your vision dims you feel empty, hollow. 

you think about weak, pitiable human hands and how they might have come with a loved one.


End file.
